


i know you're good for me

by SpineAndSpite



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Birthday, First Kiss, M/M, Multi, just guys being dudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 22:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11389707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpineAndSpite/pseuds/SpineAndSpite
Summary: For his eighteenth birthday, Ryuji Sakamoto gets a new pair of sneakers, a stack of second-hand manga, and five kisses.





	i know you're good for me

**Author's Note:**

> i'm honestly not sure if ryuji would be turning 17 or 18 in this fic, but fuck it. i do what i want.

For his eighteenth birthday, Ryuji Sakamoto gets a new pair of sneakers, a stack of second-hand manga, and five kisses. 

The first kiss is completely predictable--a messy smooch on the forehead from his mother, a crushing hug, and a whispered, “Good job, kid.” 

“I don’t know what you mean, but okay,” Ryuji grins. All he’s done up until now is cause trouble and not die. Also prevent the systematic abuse and extortion of his fellow students, but his mom doesn’t know about that. 

The second is from a surprising source. Makoto Nijima, student president and newest Phantom Thief, gives him a chaste kiss on the cheek outside of the school gate. “Congratulations, Ryuji.” 

“Uh...thanks?” His cheeks light up. 

Ann, who doesn’t ever let herself be outshone or out-drama’d, kisses him on the mouth. It’s just a peck, close-mouthed and just about a nanosecond long. “What--what was that for?!” He might have expected that out of Queen and Panther, but never the _real-world_ versions of his friends. But then he catches sight of the grin Ann and Makoto share--conspiratorial and gleaming--and thinks he maybe needs to reassess that. 

“Don’t get used to it,” Ann advises. 

“Ryuji, your face is bright red!” chirps Morgana. 

“Shut up!” Ryuji yells it at the ground because if he looks at Morgana he’ll have to look at Akira, and for some reason he can’t bring himself to do that right now. Not that he thinks Akira will try to kiss him. Not that he wants him to. 

The fourth is from a maid on the street in Shinjuku that evening, but it counts okay? Even if it was just a blown kiss and a wave. Ann rolls her eyes and Yusuke chuckles. Ryuji still doesn’t look at Akira, but he swears he can _hear_ his smirk. 

“How do you even know about this place?” Ryuji asks, inside a bar called Crossroads. This isn’t where he was expecting to end up on his birthday, but they can’t get in anywhere else once the promoters realize they’re in high school, and even though the lady behind the bar won’t serve them, she’s letting them hang out. Akira knows her, because Akira knows everyone. 

“I get around."

He is smirking, and Ryuji can still only take fleeting little looks at him. Ann and Yusuke went home hours ago, but Akira stayed. The bubbles in Ryuji’s soda seem to be rising through him, making him fizzy, blocking up his throat. It’s not alcoholic but he still _feels_ drunk, still feels like he won a goddamn prize, Akira bringing him to one of his haunts, sitting in the sunset-colored glow of the bar’s lights with him. 

“Sorry I didn’t get you anything,” Akira says, even though he’d paid for all of Ryuji’s drinks. 

“No worries, dude.” He almost tells Akira that spending time with him is enough of a present in itself. Dang, maybe this drink _is_ alcoholic. 

“Are you okay?” Akira asks, on their walk back to the station. “You’re being a little weird.” 

Ryuji considers playing dumb, but eff it. “Well, it’s been kind of a weird year, ya know? And kinda a weird birthday.” 

“Mmm.” 

“You know...Ann and Makoto both kissed me this morning.” 

“I know, I was there.” 

“R-Right.” Shit, why did he bring that up? He rakes his fingers through his hair, which is already standing on end from the breeze. Akira’s gonna think...he’s gonna…

Ryuji’s back is up against the alley wall. The bricks are warmer than the evening air, warmer than the first few drops of a summer storm, but not warmer than the soft press of Akira’s mouth, his fifth birthday kiss, at once the least and most expected, delivered two minutes before midnight in a Shinjuku backstreet. It’s not fleeting or stolen--it is deep, lush, and utterly honest. When they break apart Ryuji is shivering, both of his hands in Akira’s hair, lips stinging, almost numb. 

“What the fuck, bro,” he says weakly, but he can’t stop smiling. 

He gets more kisses that night, but since they happen after midnight he doesn’t think it’s fair to count them as ‘birthday kisses’. 

Still good, though.


End file.
